


Dust

by FlorenticWaver



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, domestic idiots, stupid fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorenticWaver/pseuds/FlorenticWaver
Summary: Dust. It always covered everything in the outback. The cars, your skin, the buildings. In a way it was comforting, something that caked on, provided a shield from the sun, and protection from the harshness of the world. A shell covering oneself. And Jamison Fawkes was one such man always caked in dust. But when you add a very large body guard, a small child into the mix. And their relationship of Bodyguard and Boss that has been teetering on the edge for a year begins to turn into something more. The Dust begins to dry away.





	Dust

 It was often said that the reason Roadhog did things for Junkrat was due to the fact that he was paid for it, and it was true, he indeed was paid for all of his work, quite handsomely. If the large stockpile back at their base had anything to do with it. But it was so much more than that, in the little under a year that he had met Junkrat, and agreed to save his life that one fateful night. A pact had been made. He’d seen it in the eyes of the other, a chaotic fight, a madness that had driven him when he had been so much younger.

A yearn for freedom.

 

That doesn’t come easy, as the skinny Australian had the knack of causing trouble everywhere he went, no matter how ‘well behaved’ he tried to be. It always just seemed to follow him, as Roadhog soon found out. Also wanted because he took something from the Omnium heap that you really shouldn’t have, and every person was out on the look for the man claiming himself to be Junkrat.  

Roadhog still had no idea what the object in question even was, as the other, while talkative as all hell, never spoke more than a few words about it. He always seemed so tense and said things with the greatest of cautions. As though the walls themselves, as soon as the secret was revealed; would grab ahold of him and swallow the rat whole.

 

Face mask turning in the direction of general noise, as that normally was where the other was, he spotted the man in question, lanky limbs fiddling with an object, since they could easily grab scrap from whatever yard they pleased, since affirming their deadliness in the field, he had been tinkering away for hours on something after ‘shopping’ for several hours, and coming back with large loads of scrap.

Roadhog didn’t mind at all, whatever kept the Rat busy. Currently, he was working on something far more simple, something far quieter as well. Making the hogdrogen liquid for his masks, it was a task that he often set to when the days were too hot to explore without risk of burn, or when, like now. A dust storm seemed to be rolling in, judging by the shifts that their barn was making, a soft creak here and there indicating that indeed soon the wind would pick up greatly. Thinking a few steps ahead of the storm, Roadhog had already closed the large metal garage doors and allowed the other to stay here, instead of where he normally slept, the workshed, which wasn’t as guarded against storms such as this. 

 

Thoughts, however, were broken from when he felt a tap and gave a general grunt of annoyance as he heard the other's voice speaking up to him, finally turning in at the end of the sentence. 

 

‘ ...Finished ’

 

A confused glance gave Junkrat all he needed to just scoff, and grab at the large man's arm, trying to yank him without avail over to where he had finished the others present. Well, it was more of a compromise on both their parts, but he had created it and painted it to match the Razorback, the large merc’s motorbike. A large sidecar, capable of holding their weapons, other cargo, and most importantly him. Since joining up with Hog, he’d been stuck sitting up in front of him, and unable to really fight back when anything happened to cause trouble, it had been a huge detriment on both their parts and they often had to stop and fight instead of continuing to drive.   
Finally, though, Junkrat had managed to FINISH the stupid buggering thing, as it had been upon his shoulders to relieve tension, being the boss and all.

 

Upon inspection of the vehicular addition to his precious bike, a hand was clapped on the smaller Junkers shoulders, and one would have suspected a hand as strong as that would collapse the Rat, but as Mako had learned the hard way, Junkrat was a lot stronger and more capable than most thought. And he surmised that most took him for granted, which is why he’d lived for so long by himself. 

 

“ Well? Tell me, do you like it? ”    
Junkrat questioned, pointing to the sidecar, and gesturing like Vanna White, a proud grin on his face, eyebrows raised, waiting for the other words, though often there wasn’t any. Body language alone told him that Hog was still contemplating, before a tilt from the others head, ah, a question.

 

“No, wait, let me guess this, dammit. Are you asking why I built it? You should fucking know! You bastard was always sayin’ that there wasn’t enough room. Or was that me saying it? I don’t remember, but now there’s room! Not it? Okay.”   
Sometimes it took more than one guess for Junkrat to get it right, quietly watching the other, before a heavy huff is heard. And the other gasps indigently. Always one to assume a violent stance, as Hogs was always just naturally aggressive and looming,    
The young junker got to his full height, pointing an accusing finger to the other and staring, eyes glossing over the reflective lens of the hog mask before he snapped his fingers and drew back.

 

“ How to connect it? Well, I didn’t want to make modifications to your bike without asking, or without letting you do them, because last time I tried that you nearly skinned me…”    
  


As he muttered the other walked back to his little workspace, before grabbing a large scrap of paper he snagged from a sketchbook, and showed it to Mako, gesturing to a few things as he prattled on about schematics, and slight adjustments.   
This sounded like a pain in the ass, but it was something he’d have to deal with, as it would be a LOT easier to fight, run, and take trips on with extra gear that they couldn’t carry on the old girl.

 

But with giving Jamison this much room to work around with, he wondered what other things he might have to agree upon to make their living conditions a bit more pleasant. A quiet pact that had been made since the first day of them knowing each other, which, in all retrospect, wasn’t a bad thing.

 

The storm wind howled, and he sighed out low, sitting himself down on the floor to help Junkrat finish piecing together the cart, a good way to pass the time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of a small series I was wanting to do, and something to work on when bored at either lunch (at work) or late at night, such as now. When I can't sleep.  
> This was done at 3:30 AM when I couldn't catch a shut eye and just had to write something, and here is my attempt at writing once again. No one has edited this, so please, if you guys find any mistakes, or anything weird, please let me know. I'd love to hear your feedback.  
> <3


End file.
